


The Final Sunset

by americanhoney913



Series: The Lion and the Dragon [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Becky's not a happy camper, F/F, I'm so sorry, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: “HEARTWORKEach day is born with a sunriseand ends in a sunset, the same way weopen our eyes to see the light,and close them to hear the dark.You have no control overhow your story begins or ends.But by now, you should know thatall things have an ending.Every spark returns to darkness.Every sound returns to silence.And every flower returns to sleepwith the earth.The journey of the sunand moon is predictable.But yours,is... ultimate..."― Suzy KassemEverything reminds her of Charlotte. Being in this place reminds her of Charlotte.The sun has always held Charlotte’s fangy smile, brighter than anything in the world. The places where the crystal clear blue lake meets the grassy shores mesh to create the mesmerizing color of Charlotte’s eyes. The sky as it turns to gold tumble down and blanket Charlotte’s shoulders with blonde waves that feel as soft as the Lamb’s Ear plants growing out back.This place is full of Charlotte and Becky hates it.





	The Final Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from Syd on Tumblr: for the 3 Word Fanfic Writing Prompts: 1. Angst, 2. FreePick, 3. Sunset/Paint/Pocket. Thanks :)

Becky remembered watching summer sunsets from this very spot. Not so long ago; just a lifetime. 

The sky starts out a clear blue with one or two marshmallow clouds. As the sun sinks beyond the mountain, the sky bleeds red into orange into yellow. It mixes and swirls like the paintbrush on canvas. 

Everything reminds her of Charlotte. Being in this place reminds her of Charlotte. 

The sun has always held Charlotte’s fangy smile, brighter than anything in the world. The places where the crystal clear blue lake meets the grassy shores mesh to create the mesmerizing color of Charlotte’s eyes. The sky as it turns to gold tumbles down and blankets Charlotte’s shoulders with blonde waves that feel as soft as the Lamb’s Ear plants growing out back in the woods. 

This place is full of Charlotte and Becky hates it.

Becky takes a deep breath, inhaling the pines and lilac and fresh water, and closes her eyes. She pulls her hair, something Charlotte’s compared to a blood-red sunset many times, back into a ponytail. The redhead looks around and sighs as she steps over to the lounge and sinks into it. She misses the times Charlotte would make her sit down in front of this very chair and braid her Simba mane, in the blonde’s words. The pull and tug as she made tight braids on the side of her head, but would leave the rest wild and free.

She shakes her head. God, she can’t even keep her thoughts together.

“Mom?” The door creaks open and footsteps make Becky look up. “Everyone’s downstairs. They’re waiting for you.“ She watches as the shadow of her daughter hovers over her. Becky turns and smiles at her. Familiar boulder shoulders. Dirty blond hair, wavy just like Charlotte’s, with bright red tips to bring in some of her Irish flair. Blue-green eyes, filled with such sadness, lock onto Becky’s. 

Her daughter smiles and kneels in front of her, puts her hands on Becky’s thigh. Becky notices she’s wearing Charlotte’s brass Claddagh wedding ring. It makes tears spring to her eyes. 

“Oh, Mom, please don’t cry,“ Reid says and her voice cracks. “If you cry, I’m gonna cry and this makeup is too fucking expensive.“

Becky laughs and sniffles and wipes her eyes. “Well, we can always  _makeup_  an excuse if we look like raccoons after this.”

“That was horrible.“ Reid wraps a hand around Becky’s ankle, giving it a squeeze. “Mom woulda loved it.“

“Thanks,  _agra_ ,“ Becky whispers as Reid stands up and holds out her hands. “Just… give me a minute. Tell everyone to go ahead. I’ll be down shortly.”

“If you’re not down in ten, Aunt Sasha said she’d come up here and drag you down by your hair.“ Reid runs her hand through her hair and ruffles it a bit, reminding Becky so much of Charlotte. She presses a kiss to Becky’s forehead and heads back inside.

Becky glances behind her at the sunset, the picture perfect painting that’s never reminded her more of Charlotte, pats the wooden railing, smiley sadly, and turns around. 

She heads down the stairs, pausing to press her fingers to mementos from her life here. That painting Reid made in art school of the view from the island in the middle of the lake. The black and white photo from their wedding, the one where Charlotte’s face is covered in cake and Becky’s beaming at her with dirty hands. The picture of Reid and Sky, on their own wedding day, happily tying a rainbow scarf for the handfasting ceremony out on the lakeside beach. 

God, there’re so many memories in this goddamn fucking house, Becky thinks as she wipes at her eyes again, not caring if she’s gonna look like a raccoon for the rest of the day. She’ll probably look like one for the rest of her life.

She reaches the last step and almost tumbles back as a brunette bullet crashes into her. She pulls away slightly to find Bayley wrapped around her, crying into her shoulder. She feels Sasha wrap her arms around both of them. She might not be able to wrap her arms around the three of them like Charlotte could, but it’s with the same sense of comfort.

“We’re gonna be okay, guys,” Sasha says, although her voice cracks a little. She coughs and pulls back. Bayley latches onto her wife and squeezes Becky’s arm with her free hand.

“I love you guys,“ Becky says. She takes another deep breath and shakes her arms out, letting it lead into a full body shake. 

“We should go. There are only about forty-five minutes of sunset left.” Sasha tugs on Bayley’s arm. “According to our astrophysicist son.” She reaches out to squeeze Becky’s hand. “Say goodbye to the house for us, will you?”

Becky chuckles and pushes her best friends towards the door. They leave with one last wave. The redhead watches as Bayley presses two fingers to her lips and then presses it against the front door in her own form of goodbye.

Becky spins around and faces the back windows. She closes her eyes and just breathes in the scent of oranges and sunscreen and Bath & Body Works  _Sweet Pea_ that Charlotte always loved to put in the wall plug. She feels arms wrap around her waist, the scent of vanilla permeating the air, butterfly kisses landing on her shoulder and neck. She breathes in the scent and can’t help but huff out a chuckle.

“I can’t do this without you, Charlie,” Becky whispers into the still air. Her shoulders begin to shake as the sobs she’s been holding in escape.

 _“You’re gonna be fine, Becks,”_ the phantom whispers against her ear.  _“I know it’s gonna be easier if you’re not here. We always had_ our _path planned out, but now you have to find_ your own _way.”_

Becky shakes her head, but Charlotte’s ghost presses her forehead to the redhead’s back. “Please don’t make me do this.”

Charlotte’s chuckle rings through her ears. “ _I can’t make you do anything, babe. We learned that a long time ago. But you know in your heart this is the right path. Step out of the shadow I’ve left behind and make your find a new journey. I'll always be with you.”_ Another kiss is pressed to Becky’s temple.  _“You’ve got an army behind you. Let them help you when you stumble.”_

“I love you, Char,” Becky says as she spins around to find herself alone. She sobs and covers her mouth as she falls to her knees in front of the bay windows.

A warmth presses against the golden key in her pocket.

_“There’s a sunrise and a sunset every single day, Becks. Don’t miss anymore of them. I'll be waiting for you when you get here.”_

Becky holds out her hand, pinkie up. "Swear it?"

The ghostly presence, warm but not material, wraps around her pinkie.

_"With my pinkie."_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, Syd, for making me write this. You weren't holding a gun to my head or anything, but I've definitly struggled with angst a lot (I'm horrible at it), but I'm actually proud (and hella sad) about how this story turned out.
> 
> Please leave a review or Kudos if you liked it!


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